


Half a Block from Home

by ani_bester



Category: All-Winners, Invaders (Marvel)
Genre: F/M, Family, Invaders - Freeform, Married Couple, Mutant Husbands, Mutant Rights, Mutants, Racism, Slice of Life, So Married
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-30
Updated: 2014-03-30
Packaged: 2018-01-17 15:17:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1392469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ani_bester/pseuds/ani_bester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A slice of life fic dealing with the mutant hysteria and how the fickle hysterical natura of the American public affects Ann and Toro's life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Half a Block from Home

_It is often easier to become outraged by injustice half a world away than by oppression and discrimination half a block from home._ -Carl T. Rowan 

 

Just as Sergeant Friday was about to close the case, a newscaster cut him off with an announcement of "pressing" news. Ann jerked her head up from the model plane she was working on and glared at the small radio across the room. 

"The Russians had better have invaded," she muttered, turning her attention back to the plane. She concentrated on getting just enough glue onto the wing that it held to the body, but didn't show. Halfway through though, the report grabbed her attention again. 

 

" . . . . have urged residents not to panic, but they have confirmed reports of a mutant in - " 

Ann slammed her hand down on the table and almost knocked her chair over as she pushed out of it. She stomped over to the radio, face contorted with rage, as though the radio had personally insulted her. 

"Of course," Ann snarled, her finger pounding against the off switch. "What's scarier than commies, desegregation, and a Catholic in the White House combined? Stupid, fear mongering-" She fell silent and took a deep breath while she mentally counted to ten. Then she took another deep breath and rested her small hands on her hips. Ann glanced back at her model. 

The idea of fitting minute pieces no longer suited her mood as it had thirty seconds ago. She turned to look at the cabinet drawer that held all her baking supplies. A sudden urge to make a cake took hold over her, but then she remembered the broken oven. 

"Damn," Ann muttered. Rolling her eyes upward, she stared at the ceiling for a moment before sighing. "I guess I could read a book." 

She looked into the living room, noting that the bookshelf seemed miles away. Ann stayed where she was and glanced back at the model kit spread over the kitchen table. 

As she stood there, torn between which hobby required less effort, the click of the front door handle cut into her thoughts. Her gaze flickered to the Donald Duck wall clock above the cookbooks. She frowned and took a second look at the time. It was still only one in the afternoon, far too early for Tom to be home. 

Ann jumped as the sharp crack of the door banging into the doorframe echoed through the house.

"Tom?" Ann called over the cursing she could hear. She came out of the kitchen, her hands rubbing together as she looked for her husband. Sure enough, it was Tom by the door, cursing as he pulled off his shirt. 

Ann could see blackened holes around the cuffs and collar, and there was smoke rising from the parts of the shirt still in contact with his skin. It was so rare that Tom lost control of his abilities that Ann's first thought was that someone had set fire to him.  
Then the reality set in and she gestured into the kitchen. 

"Go sit, Tom," Ann said, as she pushed her questions away. "I'll get you some water." 

Tom finished pulling the burnt shirt off and tossed it into a nearby wastebasket as he headed toward the kitchen. When he walked by her, Ann could feel the heat radiating from him. Brow knitted, she watched as Tom made his way to the concrete chair in the far corner of the kitchen by the icebox. He flopped down so hard onto it that Ann winced in sympathy for his tailbone.

"You know," Tom commented as Ann filled a bowl with water, "I should thank Maddie for this joke gift. A flame proof chair actually has proved useful." He made a noise that sounded like he'd tried to laugh but it hadn't been able to find the energy. 

Ann looked over from the sink and nodded, "Yes, it has." 

"Sorry about the shirt," Tom muttered. "I know you liked it."

"It's a shirt," Ann said, picking a sponge up from the counter. "I got it at the dime store." 

"Oh," Tom said in a flat voice as Ann dipped the sponge into the bowl, then squeezed the cold water onto his shoulders. The water hissed as it hit his skin and a small cloud of steam rose into the air. 

"Try to cool down, dear." 

Tom looked up at her, a smile tugging at the edges of his frown. Ann dripped some more water onto his back. It still turned to steam, but slower this time. She soaked the sponge again, then placed it carefully against Tom's skin. Steam rose from around the edges, but the sponge itself wasn't bunt. 

As she spread the cool water around his back and shoulders, Ann watched Tom. He'd become still and quiet, and his features had taken on the blank expression that meant he wasn't just angry, he was scared as well. When steam stopped rising from the sponge, Ann put her hand on Tom's shoulder. He reached up and took it and Ann knew that more than just words had Tom upset. 

"Is everyone all right?" 

Tom started and looked up at her, eyes wide as though he'd forgotten she was there at all. 

"Has anyone died?" Ann asked, clarifying what she meant. 

"Wha? Oh," Tom said, shaking his head. "It's not that, it's," Tom's expression darkened into a scowl as he let himself react again, "I was dismissed at work today." 

He spat out the last part so fast that it took Ann several beats to register what Tom had said. When the meaning of the sentence finally took form in her mind, she felt her test tighten and she knew her expression matched her husbands. 

"What? Why?" she demanded. "What could you possibly have done?" 

Tom ran his fingers through his hair, and looked down at his hands. Ann waited in silence for him to collect his thoughts. 

"You remember the medical test they wanted us to take last month?" 

Ann nodded, "To make sure all the firemen were healthy, you said." 

Tom snorted. "And to make sure we were all non-controversial as it turns out." Tom brought his hand to his mouth and lowered his head. Ann kept moving the sponge in slow circles on his back even though Tom had cooled to a normal temperature. 

"They ran everyone's blood for the X-Gene." Tom kept his gaze focused on a porcelain figurine that sat on the kitchen shelf. The smiling bride and groom waved at him as he trudged through his explanation. 

"Jefferson called me in to go over my results and why they made me unfit for my job. I tried to argue that being immune to fire was a pretty good quality to have in a firefighter, but the chief said it was a state mandate. No mutants on a government payroll. But it wasn't just- it . .." Tom closed his eyes and leaned against Ann's hands. 

"Tom?" Ann prompted in a low voice. 

"They were scared of me, Ann. People I've worked with for five years were terrified of me. Even Robertson, and I saved him during the war. He knew I had powers." Tom's expression darkened. "But because I get my power from a stupid gene instead a chemical spill, or benevolent aliens, or lightening, or crazy government experiments, I'm a threat?" Steam began to rise from the sponge again as Ann and Tom shared a long stretch of silence. 

A chuckle cut through the silence, and Ann realized she'd begun to laugh.

"What?" Tom demanded. "What's funny?" 

Ann gave him a smile and a wink. "You promised me you would find a way to get me out of those awful sewing get-togethers that her highness, Mrs. Welsh, throws. I think you couldn't have done better if you tried, dear." Ann laughed again and patted Tom's shoulder. "Married to a mutant? Mrs. Welsh won't let me get within ten feet of her house now." 

"You think we should be open about this?" His eyebrows shot up and his brow furrowed in confusion. 

"You hide enough as is, Tom." Ann answered. "Besides, if your co-workers know, all their wives know, and of all their wives know, everyone knows, so we might as well be open. What's the worst that can happen?"  
The looked of utter cynicism that Tom gave her almost made Ann laugh again. 

"I'm thinking angry lynch mobs, Ann. You've seen the news." 

"Oh pooh," Ann said, waving her hand and splattering Tom with droplets of water from the sponge. "You defeated Nazi hoards. What's a few angry neighbors compared to that?" She saw Tom finally smile and smiled again herself. 

"Well," Tom answered, drawing the word out. "People were okay with me setting Nazi's on fire, but I think people will mind if I set my neighbors on fire." 

"Even if the difference seems largely cosmetic?" 

Now Tom laughed as well. "Even so, I'm pretty sure." 

For a moment they both laughed together, but all too soon the dark cloud returned. Tom looked away and released a heavy sigh. "That'll be on my record now you know. No one will employee me." He looked up at Ann, blue eyes wide with worry. "What'll we do?" 

Ann moved so she could place her hand against his chest. "Don't worry," she murmured. " We'll work something out, even if we have to move, or I have to work again. I'll live in a circus trailer with you if I have to, okay?" 

Tom's eyes widened further. Smiling, he Ann's hand to press a kiss against her fingers. "Thanks, Ann," he whispered.

She bent and wrapped her arms around him, letting him rest is head against her for a minute. Then, Ann patted Tom firmly on the back before grabbing his arms and yanking him up. 

"Come on," she said in her no nonsense voice that Tom had compared to some WACs he'd known, " I've wanted to bake all day, but the stupid oven won't work right. You're going to be the oven." 

Grinning, Tom shook his head,. "I don't heat evenly Ann. I'm a lousy oven." 

"We'll figured something out," Ann said. "Besides if I have to work, you'll need to know how to cook, so pay attention." 

Tom chuckled and followed her over to the counter, "Hey I cooked a little in the war," 

"Fermentation doesn't count," Ann said, shoving a mixing bowl into his hands. She was rewarded with another laugh from her husband, and when Tom began to protest that he'd done more than that, Ann knew he'd be all right.

**-End**

**Author's Note:**

> I'd been mulling over what kinda personality I wanted Ann to have (because lets be honest, Marvel is doing good to give their leading ladies personalities sometimes, let alone the random wives of killed of sidekicks). I noticed that she knew about Toro's abilities, and I wondered if she knew he was a mutant. That would have been interesting because then she'd have married him right at the beginning of Marvel U's first wave a mutant hysteria (give or a take a few retcons).
> 
> Much thanks to bagofmints for giving this a go over
> 
> There is a medical/technology anachronism in this, but lets face it, Marvel U science is way crazy anyway, so I just went with what worked.


End file.
